


Deserve Better

by Salty_Sam



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, And dark, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crazy, Dark, Domestic Violence, F/M, Feels, Heavy Angst, Insanity, M/M, Mark is an Asshole, Murder, Sad, Sad and Sweet, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sweet, also abe is kinda there??? but he kinda just dies, celine is baby, damien is best bro, ill see myself out, ngl this is pretty heavy, or should i say darkiplier, will is just in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 12:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21301856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Sam/pseuds/Salty_Sam
Summary: Before WKM, During, and After.The struggles of Celine, Damien, Mark and the Colonel, which eventually lead to a love between the two victims of Mark's endless greed.My personal view of the feelings and thought processes of characters in certain key moments of the WKM story line.Major Darkstashe feels.(Also this kinda follows the lore/but kinda doesn't, i tried my best UwU)Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Celine | The Seer/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Darkiplier/Wilford Warfstashe, Darkstashe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Me

_I deserve better than this. _

He knew it from the moment he was born. Even though he lived a poor life, he always knew he could do better. He _wanted _better. The life of poverty was not for him. It wasn't right. His mother would say; 'Let's just be happy with what we have, Mark', she would say, 'People like us don't get more, not easily, at least'. But he knew he could have more. If only he tried hard enough, if he _worked _hard enough, he _knew, _he was _sure, _he could have it better if he just... Tried. So he did. From school to school, from job to job, from part-time to full-time he made his fortune slowly, but surely. He held his friends close – He always told them; 'once I make it, I'll have it all. _We'll _have it all!'. Celine, Damien and Will believed. They helped him. They trusted that one day, once he was done, they would get some of the fortune. They helped him without question. They were his friends, after all. Eventually, his dream came true. He finally had all he wanted.

_I deserve this. _

He walked through his house. The lazy, microwaved food turned into lavish meals prepared by the best of chefs. The small house plant was now a great garden, tended to by the most professional of groundskeepers. The small mattress now became a king-sized bed fit for only the richest, and most influential of people. And his friends were there, too. The ones who helped him earn all this. Damien would visit when he got free time, busy with his campaign. Running for mayor, was what he was doing. He still managed to come, between the meetings and fancy dinners. He never missed a single party. _He was just leeching off of me. _Celine found a room upstairs to practice the occult. She basically lived in the house, in need of someone to talk to, with her brother so busy. She would sit in the garden in the evenings and watch the stars. She came to all the parties, too. _She was a liar. _And then there was William. He himself travelled a lot, but when back home, he often used the house as a place to stay. He would document his adventures, and findings. He and Celine would talk into the night. They were clearly very good friends. _He was a thief. _But Mark could feel it. Like whispers around him. Something was telling him they were not who he thought they were. _They will betray you, they will betray you, they will betray you..._ He shut Damien out. He wouldn't let Will stay. But Celine... Oh, Celine...

_I deserve... Her. _

She was beautiful She was everything he wanted. He deserved all this. And above it all, he deserved _her. _He deserved to have her for himself, he deserved it. She was to be his, and that's all he knew. _She is mine, she is mine, she is mine. _She was the only one allowed to stay. He let her do her rituals, he let her into the garden. But now he joined her in the evenings. It was now Celine and _Mark_ that talked into the night. And eventually, she was _his. _He deserved her, and he got her. Damien and Will could not get involved now. But even though she was there, his, forever, he felt unsatisfied. His endless greed grew stronger. He knew it. She was so beautiful that day. She was stunning. _Not beautiful enough. _He remembered what he thought as she walked down the aisle.

_I deserve better than this._

It was an endless cycle. He pushed people aside in his search for _more_. And now, tied by this marriage, he was forced to pull Celine along. She still did her rituals. But at night, she sat alone. She watched the starry skies. She imagined that Will looked at the very same stars. She closed her eyes. A tear went down her cheek. She wished for him to be there, holding her hand. How could a married woman not think of her husband for comfort? There was a definite error there. She should have been thinking 'I want Mark to hold me right now, I want him to tell me he loves me and comfort me'. But she could only ask herself a question.

_Do I deserve better than this?_

And she remembered the day she answered this enquiry. They never missed a party, Damien and Will. That remained true. But she talked to them less and less, and so did Mark. They grew worried. But they got invited to the parties. They always did. As she always was, Celine was alone. She stood by the railing of the balcony, her hands leaning on it slightly. She knew Will was there, and yet somehow she could not bring herself to speak to him. She knew Damien was there, her beloved brother. She could cry him a million tears, and he would still find a way to make her smile. But she couldn't talk. It was as Mark always said, 'They just want to use us, they just want to throw us aside'. Funny. Wasn't that exactly what he did to them? She didn't even notice when someone joined her.

'Not enjoying the party, huh?', it was _him_. It was Will. He was there, like he was in all those evenings. Their conversation now boiled down to a pleasant hello. Celine only served as a decoration to her husband. And decorations _don't talk. _

'Not really. Not my vibe', she looked back. So many rich people, so many high-classing characters. All there to lick Mark's boots and hope for him to spare them some change.

'Huh. Same here', he sighed, tilting his head. 'You've been sort of... Quiet, lately. I wanted to visit, but Mark keeps insisting you're busy'.

'We are', she quickly snapped back, like a broken record. She was taught responses. She was taught behaviours. It was all to 'avoid being tricked', Mark told her. But was it really?

'Huh...', the Colonel glanced aside, narrowing his eyes.

'You know, I miss this. Talking to you. Everything seemed to change since you... You know...'.

'Yeah. We just... Don't have a lot of time. That's all', she found herself getting closer to him. She wasn't sure why. She just needed the comfort.

'Are you sure? Is everything... Okay?'.

'I'm fine...', she cleared her throat. 'I'm fine'.

She wished she could say something.

But the words wouldn't come.

_Maybe... I deserve better?_

This would continue. It would continue for a year, maybe two. It would get worse each time. The parties, they got scarce. Damien and Will would just so happen to miss them each time. It didn't take her long to find out Mark wasn't even inviting them any more. And it felt like she wasn't invited, either. She would sit in their bedroom, reading a book, and no one would come looking for her. She was no longer a part of this house. So she decided she would start fixing it. She had to fix it all. The mistakes she made brought her here. The lies he told kept her there. But he cared less and less. She could break away. She could, if she tried.

_I'm going to get better, I deserve it. _

'I'm glad you decided to do this', Damien told her, putting an arm around her. Even though he was the younger one, he was always the more protective sibling. It was reassuring. He helped her put on her coat, and she smiled.

'I'm glad, too', she giggled softly. 'Maybe... Maybe it's time for a change'.

'It's your choice. But I'll support you all the way'. They headed for the car, and got in. The meeting place was a small restaurant off the edge of town. Will was there, too. And for the first time in those few years, Celine finally felt joy. And she wanted more. She wanted more of it, she wanted to see _him _again. Will was the only one who really made her feel special.

He drove her home, too. Mark's party ended a long time ago. The house was dark, and quiet, as was the night. She could hear grasshoppers in the distance, and owl sang its song far away. The sky was sprinkled with those beautiful stars that brought them together in the first place. Celine turned to face him and grabbed his arms. There was something she felt. Something she was _supposed _to feel for her husband, but she lost a long time ago. Before she could even think, she placed a kiss on his lips. Something she's been wanting to do for a very long time.

'Huh...', he said under his breath and chuckled. 'That was unexpected'.

'Sorry'.

'I never said I didn't like it'.

Another kiss.

_This is better. And I deserve it. _

She wandered into the house slowly, and carefully. Before she could even take her coat off, she heard a noise. She turned to find none other than Mark, standing at the side, menacingly, He held a cane in his hand, ready like a weapon. There was a look of pure rage in his eyes. _He saw, he saw, he saw. He knows, he knows, he knows. _There was a voice screaming in the back of hear head. She backed up, her heart pounding.

'You're a liar'. He came closer.

'W-wait! I can explain!'.

'You're a cheater'. He came even closer.

'Mark! What are you doing?!'.

'I deserve so much better than you'. He lifted the cane over his head.

'Please, don't!-', she cried out.

And it came crashing down.

Right into Celine.

Before it hit, she thought only one thing;

_I deserve better than this..._


	2. You

_You deserve better than this. _

Will told Celine that her whole life. The moment she got with Mark he knew there was trouble afoot. He knew he had to step in eventually, he knew he had to save her. Unlike Mark, he actually _loved _her. He wanted her to be happy. That night, that fateful night, he heard arguing from inside the house. It was before he could even get back into his car. He rushed to the doors straight away, just in time to see Mark raising something above Celine. _He's going to hurt her. _Without thinking, he jumped closer, countering the blow with something he picked up from the shelf next to him. He grabbed Celine before she could even register what happened, and pushed her aside. He looked Mark right in the eyes. The eyes that were once kind, and open to helping anyone. Now they were broken. Hollow. They were filled with greed and rage.

'What happened to you, Mark? What the hell happened?'.

'What _happened, _Will?', he repeated, mockingly. There was not a shred of sanity left in his voice. 'I became everything you three could never even imagine being! I'm rich, I'm perfect! And I have a beautiful wife. And you want to take her from me?!', he glanced at Celine, and found her shivering because of his glare alone. Will was now holding her hand. _Thief. Thief. Thief._

'She's not some object that belongs to you, you psycho!', he forced the door open, ready to run any moment. He allowed Celine to leave before him, and gave the man one final look.

'She _belongs _to me! _I deserve her! For me! No one else! _SHE'S MINE WILL! SHE'S ALL MINE! _GIVE HER BACK!_', his words turned into incoherent screaming, at which point Will decided it was time to leave. There was nothing for him left in that house.

'I'm sorry, Mark. I'm sorry we let you become like this'. And just like that, they were both gone. After that... He wouldn't see them for years. He didn't realize it then, but that night... That night was what changed everything.

_You don't deserve to be with me. _

When she left.... It was as if the house came alive. The quiet whispers in the back of his head turned into clear, audible voices. The creaking in the floor sung its own song, and the footsteps in the hallways got louder and louder with each night he slept alone. He could feel it now. He tried to convince himself he didn't need her, but the pain was there. He never before lost something. His fortune got bigger, his belongings piled up. But he never lost any of it. And now he lost his most prized possession – Celine. There was a hole in his heart, and he couldn't take it. He couldn't take the pain any longer. One night, he wandered into the kitchen. The chef was long gone. He grabbed a small knife from the counter. The blade was sharp. It was perfect.

The knife went through his stomach easily, and he was dead in minutes.

But he wasn't. Because he woke up. That wasn't supposed to be happening. There was someone there. They didn't speak, and yet they told him; They told him he couldn't die. They told him he didn't deserve to die. He had to pay. He had to give it a body. He had to let it run free. This thing, this creature, it wanted to use him. It wouldn't let him die until it did. But he wouldn't believe it.

_You deserve so much better, Mark. _

He could hear its voice almost constantly. It would tease him every time he tried. Stabbed thirty six more times. It didn't work. He made a list. Every way to go that he could think of. Crossed it off, one by one. He tried every single death. He would sit in his office and take a sip of poison like it was a cup of tea. Nothing. He tried to beat himself to death. It was painful. It was slow. And it was for nothing. He put a noose around his neck. He tied some weights to his ankles and threw them in the pool. But nothing would work. There was one more death he wished to try. But his body was weak and he was slowly loosing his mind. He couldn't do it any more. He just couldn't. He caved to _its _will, and started hatching a plan. But what was the final death?

Mark wanted to be shot.

But he was sick of causing the death himself. It had been a few years now. He was sure he could make it work. He didn't speak to anyone, ever, any more. His staff got instructions and promotions through letters, he avoided eye contact with them. This thing in his head was his only friend, so he had no reason for reaching out to his old ones. He sat down and wrote a personal letter to everyone. _You're invited to Markiplier Manor.... _His hand was shaking. The deaths weren't permanent. But the pain was. He could barely feel his hand. _...friendly game of poker..._ He was taking deep breaths. Trying to stay sane was not an option any more. It was trying to not go _more_ insane. _…night of drinking and fun..._ He had a mental list. A list of possible 'victims'. A perfect plan. He begun signing the letters at the top. _Dear William... Dear Damien... _He wanted more people. He needed to fill the gaps. _Dear Abe... Dear Y/N... _Both old friends of Will and Damien respectively. They could come too. The more the better. He wrote another one... _Dear Celine...._ He paused, his hands shaking. He changed the wording slightly. _My dearest, Celine..._He looked at the page. He saw her face. He tore up the paper without hesitation and threw it aside. _No. She's not coming_. He signed all the letters. _From your old friend, Mark. _He looked at the torn up page and sighed. There was only a single reason why he didn't want her around. Perhaps a left over spark of the love he once felt for her?

_You deserve better than coming to this shit-show._

It all went according to plan at first. Everyone showed up. Celine didn't get curious. Will was called upstairs and the two talked. He was drunk out of his mind. He got angry so easily. It was child's play to get him to fire that gun. All he had to bring up was Celine. 'I loved her more than you could ever manage, you pig!'. Just like that. _Dead again. _Before coming back, he watched Will take him to the stairs. He watched him cower in his room, sobbing to himself. _It was a joke, it was a joke, it was a joke, _he repeated under his breath. Pathetic. He watched it all play out. And when the time was right... He stood up and walked away, just like that. Everyone was fighting. Everyone was shouting. The chaos was there, everything was going according to plan. But then _she _showed up. She just had to. She had to come and protect her little brother.

And then the house spoke.

_I want her. I want her body. It's strong. I want it. _

_No... No, you can't!_

She went upstairs. She performed her rites. Everyone ran outside. It was just her and Damien. They wanted to get more curious. They started asking the House itself. Communicating with it. Giving it the tool it needed to cause havoc. Why did they get so curious?

_I'm taking her. You take him. We are free._

_Celine.. Please, you have to run!_

She whispered something under her breath, and it all went dark. It all went quiet. He watched their bodies fall to the table, lifeless. He saw the colours flashing around the whole house. He heard the group outside running back in. He had to act. No time to wait now.

_We have to move. You need a new body, you're weak. Take the boy._

_Celine, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _

He touched the edge of her cheek one last time. He felt her come back to life as the House took control. He felt himself being forced into Damien's body. He didn't have much time. For the last second on the other side, he saw a flash of Celine's soul. He wished he could talk to her. He wished he could explain. He only had one thought on his mind.

_You deserved so much better than me. _

Mark took Damien. The House took Celine. And the two were trapped in the house, never to be freed. That was, until everything else went wrong. Before the Colonel shot the Detective. Before the Colonel killed_ them._

A conversation in the void.

Two souls, one body.

A new being.

_She_ watched as Will broke down, insanity taking over him. _It was all a joke! It was all a joke! Celine, where are you? Celine? He _looked around the house. Empty. Quiet. Not a single remanent of what went down there that day. _They looked into the mirror. _Celine saw nothing. Damien saw himself. He looked into his own, enraged eyes. Celine was in the back-seat, no way to control what was happening. Damien narrowed his eyes, staring at his new, broken, and cold body. He turned his head, the mirror cracking before him as he did.

_I'm done playing nice-guy. _

Celine felt her heart crack in two. Her loving, caring brother, broken by something like this. She watched him storm off, ready to kill whoever hurt his dear sister. As she watched Damien go from the kindest soul in the universe to a complete monster, she felt hot tears go down her cheeks. Did she even have any, any more? It was just a sensation. She was only a thought. An _idea. _But she could think, and she could speak. And she only had one thing on her mind. The one person who should have never been tied up in any of this. The one most broken by it all. She could only think of one thing. A single sentence, that swirled around her mind endlessly;

_Damien... You deserve so much better than this..._


	3. Us

_We deserve better than this._

William's mind was a mess, he couldn't understand what had gone down. He walked through the halls of the Mansion endlessly, looking for his friends. It was a joke. It was all a joke, a really funny one, too. But it was time to come out now. The joke was done. He stopped laughing. But Celine, Damien and Mark were still hiding. Abe still lay on the floor. His wound stopped bleeding. He started getting a little cold. 'You can stand up now, Abe! It's over!'. But he lay there. Not moving an inch. He was committed, he really was. He put a blanket on him so he was warmer. And the young District Attorney who came along with Damien lay at the staircase, too. Their body was just as cold as Abe's. The blood looked so real. He shook his head. _It's all a joke, it's all a joke, it's all a joke. _

And then the body moved.

He wasn't dead. Damien was right there. He stood, watching him. Not a word said. Something was wrong with him. But he was alive, right? That was all that mattered. _A joke, a joke, a joke. _He left for a while, but he came back. He held his cane tightly. His eyes were filled with rage. They asked for one thing; 'Revenge'. But revenge for what? It was funny. The joke was funny, he could not stop laughing. Damien came closer. And he put his hands on Will's shoulders. He was cold. Just as cold as Abe. Abe was _still _upstairs. He was still sleeping. He was resting. He stared him down, a look of pity. A look of fear. Those eyes, somewhere deep in them, he saw her, too. _Celine? Celine, where are you? You can come out now. It's over. _Damien's hand travelled to his hair, and moved it out of his face. William couldn't move. He wasn't sure why. It were as if Damien spoke, even though he said nothing. They thought the same thing.

_We're going to get better than this. _

He left. He went somewhere. But he told him. He told him what to do.

'You wanted to be a journalist, right, Wilford?', his voice was menacing and deep. It echoed. _Isn't my name William? _Things got so hazy ever since that night. Abe was still sleeping. Still cold. He gave him another blanket, hoping it would help. He was probably just very, very tired.

'Huh? Did I?'. Memories got jumbled after a while.

'Yes. You told me'. _No, I didn't. Or did I? I can't remember..._

'What do I do now, Damien?'.

'You can go work for the AFC News. They'll like you'.

He was strange. Will knew he was trying to be nice. But he was just trying to protect him. He would give him tips. Tips to stay safe from Mark. He would tell him to act a little more wild than he was. He said it would make people like him more. He said it would help him stay safe.

'Why do you keep calling me Wilford?'.

'Because that's your name'.

'It is?'.

'It is now'.

_We deserve to be normal again. _

Celine tried to take charge. But he wouldn't let her. It was _Damien's _turn now. He knew she was capable of fixing all this. It wasn't that he thought she was too weak, not at all. But he didn't want to stand back and play nice any more. He never did a single thing wrong. And Mark took everything from him. He never got involved in that petty drama of theirs. He was just looking out for his sister. And now he paid the price. He wasn't going to rest until that man got what he deserved. But there was someone else who had to be helped. Someone else who was changed and broken because of all this. Will. He had to protect Will.

He wasn't sure if it was influence from Celine that made him so protective of him, or if it was their history together. He wanted to help him as much as he could. Even though the pain made him feel bitter, and he could barely manage a smile, and despite the fact that his mind was like a perfect machine. He could no longer think of the 'good' path. He could only think of the most logical one. And sometimes, that was the worst one possible. He could have explained to Will that changing his name would keep him safe. But the more logical, and quicker way, was to use his broken mind against him and force him to believe his name was actually Wilford Warfstashe. A ridiculous name to match a ridiculous personality. The best way for him to hide would be to create himself a reputation. Put himself in the spotlight. And if Mark ever struck... All would see.

But it went wrong. Oh, so wrong.

Damien should have given him time. But he had things to do. He had things to prepare. And just like Mark left them all in the dust, he left Will. And Will couldn't take it. His broken psyche pushed him to a point where murder became a past time – Where causing pain and grief was not something he could register. All he knew was that he 'didn't mean it'. He was always only 'joking around'. Damien wished he could help. But he had things to do. He had a complicated plan to put in place. It hurt. Deep inside, that part that still loved him- No. Not a part of _him, _deep inside, _Celine_, it was _Celine_ that still loved him. Or was it Damien? No. It couldn't have been. It was Celine. Celine was trying to interrupt his plans. He knew it. She was doing something. Holding his sub-conscious hostage somewhere. He couldn't focus. He became a simple shell, at one point unable to move at all. There were flashes in the back of his mind, telling him something has changed. He regained full control after some time, and Celine's influence was completely gone. Something in the back of his head sent him a message, and it told him three things;

The snowy forest.

Mark.

Celine is dead.

Damien wasn't sure how he knew. It all happened in the back of his head. _The snowy forest. Mark. Celine is dead. _He wasn't sure if it was true. He didn't _want _it to be true. He didn't want to believe that last part especially. _The snowy forest. Mark. Celine is dead. _But she was gone. The whole time, it was as if she were shouting from the back-seat. But her voice was gone. It was all him now. It was just Damien. _The snowy forest. Mark. Celine is dead._ He had dreams. Nightmares. He saw what happened. He saw the _snowy forest. _He saw _Mark. _And he heard Celine's gentle voice. _I'm so tired, _she whispered. But there was something else. In all this, was Will. He was still there. Somehow. His voice, echoing through the woods;

_Why did the music stop?!_

And that's when he knew. He kept convincing himself it wasCeline's influence that made him care for Will so much. But it wasn't. It was he, himself, that made those choices. And it was he, himself, that now regretted them greatly. He heard his voice in his dreams. He was still alive. Somewhere. He saw him. He saw him wandering around, always out of reach. He was doing what Damien instructed him to do. He was getting into the spotlight. He was putting himself somewhere where he was simultaneously the most safe, and in the most danger. It were as if their souls were tied by the events at the mansion, always destined to meet again, but missing each other by mere seconds, no matter the context. But he knew there was one place when he would meet him, eventually. He never thought he would come back.

Damien stood at the door of the Manor.

It was cold, abandoned. The hallways were filled with awful smells. The rotting food in the kitchen, the dying plants in the hallways. It would seem Mark never returned, and neither did anyone else. The lock was forced open. He pushed the door, the wood groaning as he did. He passed the mirror. Still cracked. And he headed up the stairs. Just by the edge of the railing, he found Will. His gaze was focused on a body by the wall. Despite most of the cadaver having rotten away, he recognized the face shape. He recognized the outfit. It was Abe. And he was just as dead as that night, with those two blankets still firmly on him.

'He's tired. He's taking a nap', Wilford was muttering under his breath, with a firm grip on his gun. He back slid down the railing, sitting down next to it. Damien joined him soon enough. They just sat there. Motionless, still, like all the things in this cursed mansion. There was silence, for a moment.

'Hey Damien? Have you seen Celine anywhere?'. He sighed, looking over at the 'napping' detective.

'She's... sleeping', he responded with deep sorrow, not wanting to hurt the man any more.

'O-oh... That's good. I wouldn't wanna bump into her right now', his gun rested on his face and he smiled. 'She'd make fun of my moustache. She hates the colour pink, you know?'.

'I know, Will. She's my sister'. Wilford nodded along, moving the weapon away from himself.

'Hey! Damien! We should make a TV Show!'.

'…', Damien glanced aside for a while. What was Wilford's reality like? Slowly crumbling? Did he view anything how everyone else viewed it? He didn't care. He lived in this other world, without sorrow, without regret. And did Damien want to ruin that? Did he want to ruin _him _more? No. At least not yet. For now, he would keep it up. He grabbed the man's hand, squeezing it tightly. 'You know what? Okay. Let's make a TV Show'.

'Great! We can call it... Hmm...', he scratched the back of his head with his gun.

_We deserve better than this. _

Damien closed his eyes. Somehow, this chaos was better than the dark reality he had come to know so well. He let himself be pulled into Wilford's world, taking a break from this hell.

_We don't deserve to be these... things. _

He placed his head on his shoulder.

_We deserve to be alive again. _

He squeezed his hand even more tightly.

_But we won't get that. So for now, I'm choosing happiness. And I hope you are, too, Celine. _

_Wherever you are right now. _


End file.
